


A White Christmas

by HPfanatic12



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Banter, Christmas Cookies, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Dorks in Love, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:15:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28322973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPfanatic12/pseuds/HPfanatic12
Summary: It's almost Christmas, so Katie and Marcus do a little baking. Only, it doesn't go quite as planned
Relationships: Katie Bell/Marcus Flint
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	A White Christmas

Katie was bent down, her eyes watching the grains of sugar fall into the measuring cup until it hit the desired number. She rose back up to her feet and poured it into the big, red bowl. 

Off to the side, hovering in the doorway with his arms crossed and wearing an amused expression, there stood Marcus. He observed her for another minute or two. “You are aware that you’re a witch, yes?” 

Katie swore, the spoon she’d been holding dropping into the bowl with a  _ clunk _ . She spun around, heart thumping wildly. “Stop doing that!” she barked while he laughed. “It’s not funny!” 

Still chuckling, Marcus stalked over to her, wrapping his arms around her smaller frame and kissing the top of her head. “I’m sorry.” She could practically  _ hear  _ him grinning. 

“Liar,” she accused, midly, picking the spoon back up and continuing to stir. “You could help me instead of doing nothing.” 

“Mmm, feisty today, aren’t we?” He murmured into her ear. “Good thing that’s how I like it.” 

She wiggled out of the embrace, not to be deterred. “I’m busy, leave me alone.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “You weren’t saying that last night.” 

She refused to blush,  _ refused  _ to give into him. He was jus trying to get her going. “Which was clearly a lasp in judgement,” she said, plainly. 

“Ouch,” he remarked, wryly. “What’s got your knickers in a twist, Bell?” 

“ _ You _ .” 

He smirked and she immediately knew she’d said the wrong thing. 

“True,” he agreed. 

“Ugh,” Katie rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible.” 

“But you like it.” 

“Hardly.” 

“That all you’ve got to say, Bell? You’re slipping.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Well,  _ that  _ depends on what you’re offering.” 

A scowl formed on her face. “Don’t you have something to do? Like the tree I told you to put up?” 

“Already did that,” he shrugged. “Lavitated it  _ with magic _ , you know, that thing you have, too.” 

“I’m aware, thank you.” 

“Then why’re you doing this,” he gestured to the mess on the counter, “the muggle way?” 

“I’ve always done it this way,” she opened up a bag of chocolate chips-smacking his hand when he tried to grab a handful. She sobered and the air became  _ just  _ a little more tense. “My dad and I used to always bake cookies together,” she said, quietly. 

Marcus squeezed her hand, comfortingly. 

Her parents had made it out of the war alive. Even with being a half-blood, Katie had an invisible target on her back because her mother was a muggle. So, with the help of Oliver, they relocated her parents to another part of England, where they could live without the threat and worry of Death Eaters ambushing them. 

And she’d really believed they would be alright. She communicated with them as often as she was able to, which had dwindled down considerably during the last few weeks of the war. Oliver offered her a place to stay at his flat, where she could hide and he’d know she would be safe. 

It wasn’t until after they’d won, when she was just about to leave the rubble mess of what used to be Hogwarts so she could inform her parents of the victory, that she was stopped by one of the aurors. 

_ “Katie Bell?” A tall man with wavy blonde hair asked.  _

_ She blinked. “Er, yes. Can I help you?”  _

_ “I’m Auror Robinson,” the man introduced himself. They shook hands. “I-there is no easy way for me to tell you this.”  _

_ That was when she felt like she’d been doused in icy water. She knew what was coming. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. Behind her, Oliver wrapped his arms around her. “Oh, Merlin, no. Please tell me they’re alright? Please!”  _

_ Auror Robinson bowed his head in sympathy. “My colleagues and I were alerted to the safe house your parents were occupying. I’m afraid to say that there was an attack. Your parents didn’t make it, Miss Bell. I’m very sorry.”  _

_ Katie let out a sob, grasping Oliver’s arms for dear life. “No, no,” she cried, “you’re lying!”  _

_ “Katie-”  _

_ “He’s LYING!” she was making a spectacle of herself, but in that moment she hadn’t cared. “He’s lying, Oliver! He’s a bloody liar!”  _

_ “Katie, come on,” Oliver gently guided her over to one of the long tables. She fought him all the way, calling out the auror and insisting he was lying.  _

She missed doing that with her dad and wished that she hadn’t taken it for granted, like in third year when she declined because a muggle friend of hers had invited her to go ice skating. She hadn’t thought much of it at the time because-as she would say to her mother in some sort of justification-they did it every year, anyway. Missing one wasn’t going to hurt anything. 

But now she would have given everything to take it all back; to laugh as her dad would dance  _ horrendously  _ to the tunes coming from the radio and  _ pretend  _ he didn’t see her taking tiny bites of cookie dough from the bowl. 

“I’m sorry,” Marcus said, softly. “I forgot. Do you want any help?”

She smiled up at him, nodding. “Yes, please.” 

“Alright. What do you want me to do?” he rolled up his sleeves. 

Katie gave him a separate bowl filled with sugar cookie dough and a cookie sheet. “Measure these out and put them on the cookie sheet. Like this.” She did one for him so he could see. “Just don’t make them too big or they’ll mesh together. And  _ don’t  _ eat any,” she warned him, wagging a finger at him. 

“If I do, will you punish me?” he asked with a devious grin, after failing to put on an innocent expression. 

Innocent was the last word that could ever describe Marcus Flint. 

She snorted. “No, because then I’ll be punishing myself.” 

“You know what, Bell?” 

“ _ What _ , Flint?” She said, challengingly. 

He took ahold of her shoulders, brushing his lips over hers. Her arms found their way around his neck, playing with his hair. Godric, it’d been-what-almost a year and he  _ still  _ made her breathless-literally. She’d envsioned he would have liked it rough, given his general demanor, but he surprised her by always being gentle. 

“We should stop,” she mumbled when he pressed another kiss to her neck. “We’ll never finish if you keep distracting me.” 

She pulled away, but he yanked her back. “Something tells me you don’t actually want to stop, Princess,” he nuzzled her. The temptation was great, all those pleasing  _ sensations  _ that would have made it all too easy for her to  _ forget  _ why she was in the kitchen in the first place. 

But Katie pulled herself out of that, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand. For good measure, a price he had to pay for being so  _ naughty _ , she glided her tongue over his bottom lip, gently nipping-pulling away soon after and grinning at how he  _ groaned _ in disappointment. 

“That was cruel, Bell.” 

“Oops,” she put her finger on her own lower lip, eyes gleaming with mischievousness. 

“Tease,” he whispered in her ear. 

She elbowed him, without the usual force behind it. “Not now,” she said, matter-of-factly. “Later. Help me with the cookies and if you’re a good boy, santa might bring you a present.” His hands were roaming down her hips, she fought to shiver when his thumbs began rubbing circles into them. 

“What if I want my present now?” he countered. 

“Too bad,” her stomach fluttered again when he leaned down to kiss her forehead. He probably expected her to give into those  _ delightful  _ sensations and she wanted to, honestly, but those cookies weren’t going to bake themselves. 

Well, they  _ could,  _ by all means. But she was determined to be productive and carry on the tradition, intending on including Marcus, even though this was probably out of his element. 

She pushed the bowl he was supposed to be mending into his arms, enjoying the sight of exasperation in his eyes. “Stir,” she instructed, suppressing a snicker. “And don’t eat out of it.” 

“You’ve already told me.” 

“And I’m telling you again,” she was momentarily reminded of her mum, who at once upon a time,  _ told her that exact same thing  _ and she inwardly grimaced.

He coughed something, she wasn’t sure what. But by the smirk on his face, it was nothing pleasant. She chose to ignore it, knowing that he was merely trying to rile her up. 

Nonetheless, for a very rare occasion, he did as he was told, albeit a bit  _ too  _ aggressively. That was why the flour came back up and hit Marcus in the face. 

Katie covered her mouth with her hand to smother her giggles at his supremely annoyed look for that having happened. There was a light dusting on him and he scrunched up his face-she reckoned some had gotten into his eyes. While he wiped it away, he was grumbling under his breath. 

"Not a word," he warned her as an idea came to her mind. A naughty, mischievous,  _ wonderful  _ idea. 

"I was going to say anything," she said, smoothly, waiting until he was finished for her to put her plan into action. "Oh, Marc, you miss a spot-" she vaguely gestured to her own face. 

He frowned, glancing into the back of the metal spoon that, so far, hadn't been used yet. "I don't see any-" 

Katie got up on her tippy toes, after having dipped her finger in some flour, she drew a line on his nose. Her stream of laughter came out when he paused mid-sentence, almost in disbelief that she had done such a thing. 

"Thing," he finished, flatly. 

"As I said," Katie smiled sweetly, "you missed a spot." 

With an impassive expression, using a towel to clean off his face, Marcus didn't say it or do anything for about a minute. It was as if he was contemplating on something. Katie wondered if she somehow offended him. He called crap on many of the pure blood values, but it was still ingrained into him from a young age. 

"Thought that was funny, didn't you?" Marcus said, calmly. Katie spied how he reached down into the bowl of flour and sugar. 

_ He wouldn't,  _ a sense of playful adrenaline surged through her and she instinctively backed up. "Yes," she said, with that stubborn Gryffindor bravery. "I do." A smirk crossed his face and she knew she was done for it. "Don't you dare!" She exclaimed, quickly moving around the counter. He didn't move that much, but he needn't to. His aim was good enough that it would hit her directly. "Marcus, I  _ swear  _ to bloody Merlin, if you do it-" she couldn't get out the rest of what she was trying to say because he threw the handful at her and she ducked. 

"You're in for it now, Bell!" 

"You'll have to catch me, Troll!" she lifted her head up to stick her tongue out at him. The former insult that she'd used and laughed at toward his expense, was now used more as a term of endearment between them. 

She stood back up, hands pressed onto the countertop, eyes keeping a steady gaze on him. He was holding more in his hand, watching her like a predator would a prey. "Give up yet, Bell?" He asked. 

"You wish," she scoffed. "You're just lucky I don't have my wand." 

"Oh yeah?" He said, eyes sparkling. 

"Yeah," she said, confidently. "I'd mop the floor with you, Flint." He acted as though he was going to lunge at her, she took another step back, eyeing him warily. "You better not  _ even  _ think about it." 

"Or what?" He grinned. "You're not really putting up much of a fight, Bell." Swiftly, he jumped at her and she let out a shriek. He engulfed her in a hug; the flour getting all over her but she hardly cared, too busy giggling. "You should know, Katie, that I always get what I want," he whispered into her ear. 

"And what  _ do  _ you want?" She breathed, eyes shutting. 

"You." 

In the end, they eventually did get around to baking those cookies. And when Oliver wryly asked how Marcus-Flint, to him, as they still hadn't gotten past calling each other by their surnames-had did doing things the muggle way. Katie and Marcus shared a smirk. 

It became one of her favorite holiday memories. 

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas everybody!!


End file.
